


Prom Dress

by garden_of_proserpine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 04:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garden_of_proserpine/pseuds/garden_of_proserpine
Summary: Draco still keeps Hermione's old prom dress in his closet. Their daughter, Lyra, wants to know why.





	Prom Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Draco should have known something was up when his (almost) entirely lazy daughter, Lyra, volunteered to clean out his closet.

Not that he didn’t believe that she loved him and – what was the reason she had given? _That she wanted to make his and Hermione’s twentieth anniversary more relaxing by helping out around the most?_ – but for a girl who had to be coaxed out of her room for anything except for food, Lyra had been unusually enthusiastic.

Now he was staring at his fourteen-year-old kid while she demanded to know why he had a prom dress in his closet.

(Not that she knew that it was a prom dress, of course. To her, it was just a strange Muggle contraption – a strapless confection of tulle and hideous cerulean lace – but it was clearly not anything that she had ever seen Hermione wearing.)

“Why is this in _your_ closet, Dad?” She smirked. “Something to tell me?" 

Oh, God. “I am not a cross-dresser,” he blurted out.

“You said it, not me. So what’s the story?”

He cringed a little. The _actual story_ was that Hermione had been dating a very buffoonish Muggle boy named Johnny while a seventh year at Hogwarts, and because of that she had staunchly refused all his advances. She claimed that this boy was kind, considerate, sweet, and had no prejudice towards Muggles – how could he, because he _was_ one? Then, while rejecting his invitation for her to accompany him to that year’s Winter Ball, she mentioned casually that she had gone to something called a “Senior Prom” with the aforementioned Johnny, and that it was a Muggle event that involved _deeply inappropriate_ dancing; more alcohol that you needed to get slightly tipsy, as was proper; and dresses. Strapless dresses, to be precise, held up mostly by tape. Worse yet, Johnny was an _American_ , which meant that she had literally traveled across the ocean to be with him.

It was like one of those horrible Disney stories. (He was very proud of himself for coming up with that analogy. Hermione had first introduced him to the wild horrors of Disney films when Lyra was born – evil stepmothers? Poisoned apples? As if he needed any more proof that the Muggle world was full of terror – and he took no small pride in the fact that he could actually distinguish between Princess Jasmine and Sleeping Beauty by the time Lyra was demanding he accompany her in duets.)

After Hermione had thrown Johnny in his face, he had spent the next year boiling with jealousy at the thought of Hermione dancing nose to nose with some clumsy and ridiculous-looking Muggle boy, half-drunk and wearing a _strapless_ dress.

But he couldn’t tell Lyra _that_ story. He glanced at the wall of the dining room, where there hung a slightly crooked photo of the Weasel and his terrible brood of red-headed children with Lavender Brown, and suddenly inspiration struck.

“Your mother,” he replied as imperiously as he could, “wanted to wear something very unique to your godfather Ron’s wedding. She spent a very long time shopping around for it."

Lyra blinked slowly. “Then why is it in _your_ closet?” 

“Because she was embarrassed.” He cleared his throat and frowned. What was a nice way of saying _because I’m still a little jealous?_ “Because I, well, can’t let her forget her younger sartorial mistakes.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course, dear.”

_Nailed it._


End file.
